


Walk Me Home?

by dyingpoet



Series: Sprace one shots [38]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Underage Drinking, spot is honestly such a g can we appreciate him please???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Race shows up on the doorstep of Brooklyn lodging in the middle of the night





	Walk Me Home?

**Author's Note:**

> yo why am i writing sm??? nobody knows!!!! least of all me!!!

“Hey, why don’t you get outta here, kid.”

Spot looked up from where he was helping Blue count his money. Ashes was standing in the doorway to lodging, blocking Spot from seeing who he was talking to, but it was obvious from his stance he was trying to keep someone out. 

“I’ll be right back,” Spot said to Blue, ruffling the kid’s hair when he nodded and kept counting his pennies softly to himself. He walked up behind Ashes and put a hand on his shoulder, meeting eyes with him when his head turned. “What’s goin’ on?”

Ashes cleared his throat and stepped to the side, letting Spot get a view of the kid standing on their doorstep. 

“Oh  _ Christ _ .”

Race waved unsteadily at Spot, swaying on his feet a little as he gestured at Ashes with a half empty bottle of something in the same hand. “Call off the guard dog, Spotty.”

Spot felt Ashes tense at his side and he took a step forward between the two of them, nodding at Ashes. “I’ll take care of him.”

Throwing a glare at Race, Ashes walked back into lodging and let the door swing shut behind him, leaving Spot alone on the doorstep with Race. A very,  _ very  _ drunken Race.

“What’s goin’ on?” Spot asked carefully. He looked Race up and down quickly and found a busted lip and the beginnings of a black eye. “What happened, Race?”

Race’s eyes lazily searched Spot’s face before he answered; his hands where shaking. “Got kicked out, came here.”

“Kicked out? Kicked out of where?”

“Manhattan,” Race said simply, raising the bottle to his lips and taking another gulp. He didn’t notice when Spot took a step forward. “Told me to get out.”

He went to take another sip of the liquor when Spot shot a hand out and snatched the bottle from him, putting it behind his back when Race clumsily reached out.

“Give it back.”

Spot shook his head and leaned down, putting the bottle down on the concrete and taking another step forward. “Cuttin’ ya off for the the night.”

Race let out a whine but didn’t go for the bottle again, and barely responded when Spot grabbed his chin to try and get a better look at his eye. 

“Where’d ya get this?”

“Same place as the booze,” Race slurred, making brief eye contact with Spot. “Fought for it all by myself, Spotty.”

Rolling his eyes, Spot grabbed Race’s arm and started pulling him away from lodging. “Yeah, yeah, and I’m real impressed. C’mon, let’s go.”

He felt Race stumbling after him, and once he got a few paces forward he dropped the other boy’s arm, letting him half lean on him as they walked. 

“Where’re we goin’?” Race asked. He grabbed Spot’s hand reflexively and giggled when it was swatted away. 

Spot put a hand on the small of his back and pushed him across the street. It was late, but not that late, and if a bull saw a drunk Race with him they’d both be screwed. So, he guided Race off the main street into the alleys, figuring he could take them to the bridge.

Keeping his voice soft, he said, “Back to ‘Hattan.”

Race groaned loudly and Spot grabbed his wrist again when he started backing up. “C’mon Race-”

“I don’t wanna go back,” Race whined, stopping dead in the middle of the alley. He was looking at Spot with pleading eyes and pulled on his captured wrist lightly. “Let’s just stay here tonight.”

Spot loosened, but didn’t completely drop, his grip on Race’s wrist and took a step forward.

“Jackie’s probably halfway across the bridge already lookin’ for ya, kid. You know he just got mad, he don’t want you walkin’ around like this alone-”

Race shook his head quickly and started to speak, but his voice cracked and he looked down, screwing his eyes shut. “No, he was real mad at me Spotty, you wasn’t there.”

Looking over his shoulder, Spot checked the alley before leading Race over to the wall and pushed him to sit down against it before sitting in front of him himself. They weren’t going to get very far with Race protesting the whole way, so he figured he’d let the him get out whatever he needed.

“What happened?”

Race had drawn his knees to his chest and was looking at Spot cautiously from underneath his mop of hair, and if it was any other time he might have laughed at how young he looked right then. 

“I left the tracks after sellin’ today and little Romeo caught up with me, y’know him?”

Spot nodded and Race took a deep breath, speaking slowly from the alcohol and the way he was still sort of holding back tears. 

“So we was about a block from lodging and we passed the Delancey’s, so I was tryin’ to make the kid laugh so I made like I was gonna pickpocket the bigger one, right? But I guess they was pissed off or somethin’ and they just snapped on the two off us, and I was fightin’ back but they’re  _ big  _ Spotty, and they got both of us pretty bad.”

Race took another breath and Spot balled his fists. He’d offered to straighten out those to, to both Race and Jack, and both of them had said no. An awful lot of good that did. 

Race started picking at the cracked ground beneath him, not noticing anything about Spot it seemed, and continued, “And Jack and Albert heard it, I guess, and came around and pulled them offa us and scared ‘em away. But Romeo was pretty roughed up, and Jack, he was so  _ mad  _ at me for startin’ the whole thing once I explained what happened, and Al tried to calm him down but he just went off. Kicked me out, told me that I should just go. So I did.”

He shrugged at that last bit and let his head loll forward, not drunk enough to mess up too badly with his words, but enough that Spot could tell he was close to passing out. 

Lightly, Spot reached out and pushed Race’s knee, ducking his head to meet Race’s dazed eyes. “Hey, from what I heard, Jackie got mad and told ya off, don’t sound like he really meant it.”

Race made a low sound in his throat and shook his head. “Nah, he’s been all over me lately, Spotty, for everything. Maybe he don’t want me to come back.”

“Hey,” Spot said loudly, getting Race’s attention back, “do you even know who you’re talkin’ about? Kelly worries ‘bout all’a you more than most mothers do.”

Race laughed a little and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. “Yeah, he does.”

“Damn right, and y’know he’d probably killin’ himself not knowin’ where ya are, huh?”

He could see Race starting to calm down and understand, and once he nodded fully again Spot stood up and reached a hand down to pull Race up with him. “Now c’mon, I’ll walk ya back to lodging.”

Race followed him easier this time, although he held Spot’s hand almost the entire way, and Spot didn’t slap it away. He could play Race off as his drunk older brother if worse came to worse.

* * *

 

“Oh thank god.”

Jack had basically launched himself at Race as soon as the two of them rounded the side of the lodge house, and Spot stepped back as Jack pulled back and looked over his brother. 

“Shit Racer, you got drunk?”

“No-”

“Yes he did,” Spot cut off, rolling his eyes when Race shot him a look. “Like it ain’t obvious enough already.”

Jack looked like a mess, and Spot would bet good money he’d been walking around looking for Race since about ten minutes after he first kicked him out. 

“I’m real sorry,” Jack started, “I didn’t mean nothin’ I said earlier, I was just mad-”

Race waved him off and looked over at Spot, giggling like they had some sort of inside joke about Jack, which Spot supposed they did. “It’s okay Jackie, I shouldn’ta started anything with a kid around anyway.”

They both ducked their heads and shifted awkwardly before Jack pulled Race in for a hug and broke the tension, ruffling his air when he pulled away and reminding Spot how close the two of them were. Like real brothers. 

“You can go up if ya want,” Jack said to Race and nodded back toward the door. “I’ll catch up.”

Race looked at Spot before going in and quirked his mouth up into a hint of a smile. “All right, see ya Spot.”

“See ya,” Spot answered. He waited until the door slammed behind Race to look over at Jack. “He’s okay.”

Jack sighed and Spot watched as he raked a hand through his hair, his hands shaking as bad as Race’s had been earlier. “Where’d ya find him?”

“He showed up at Brooklyn lodging, tried to get in I think, but one of my boys stopped him.”

“Was he bad off?” Jack asked, genuine worry in his eyes and Spot remembered the brief look of shock when he first caught sight of Race’s face. 

But Spot knew about as much as Jack there, so he shrugged. “Looked same to me as he did to you, said he got in a fight to get some booze, I dunno.”

He could feel guilt coming off of Jack in waves, but neither of them said anything for a moment. For some reason, Spot knew they both felt weirdly responsible. 

After a couple seconds Jack let out a deep exhale and looked back at the door before turning again to Spot. “Okay, thanks for bringin’ him back.”

“Don’t mention it.”

They both spit shook and turned their separate ways then, Spot hearing the door shut behind Jack as he started the long walk back home. He’d soak him and Race if he ever had to make another one like it any time soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> ayy i hope u guys like how this turned out!!! it felt short but complete to me?? idk tho
> 
> as always leave kudos/comments to make a tired writers day :^)


End file.
